Extreme Change

by Gary Beck

  Beth knew she was getting the brush off and was prepared, "We don’t want his assistant’s phone number. We want to see the commissioner today."

  The secretary was getting flustered. "That’s impossible. You’ll have to leave and phone for an appointment."

  Beth was relentless, "We’re not leaving until we see the commissioner."

  She signaled to Kiesha, who said loudly, "Children. Let’s sit down until the commissioner sees us." The children obediently sat on the expensive leather couches.

  The secretary was at a complete loss how to handle the visitors and she picked up the phone and whispered, "Mr. Commissioner. We have a situation out here…. There’s a group of parents and children who insist on speaking to you…. I told them that, sir…. I didn’t ask them…. I’ll tell them…."

  She turned to Beth, "The commissioner wants you to speak to a family outreach coordinator, who’ll help you with your problem."

  Beth was adamant, "We’ll only speak to the commissioner."

  The secretary locked gazes with Beth for a moment, then reached for the phone. "They refuse to speak to an assistant, Mr. Commissioner…. All right. I’ll tell them… The commissioner says we’ll call security if you don’t leave quietly."

  Beth was very calm, "We’ll have to go to the media then."

  The secretary got up and went into the inner office and came out a minute later, "The commissioner’s assistant will be here in a few minutes."

  "We’ll wait for the commissioner," Beth said. The adults sat down, while the children started poking around the room under the nervous gaze of the secretary.

  The assistant came in a few minutes later. He was a short, pudgy man with black, thinning hair that was brushed back to hide bald spots. He had small, round dark eyes, a wide flat nose, a wispy moustache that drooped over a thin prissy mouth and no chin. He looked like a dissatisfied seal. He stopped in front of them, put his hands on his hips and said in a high-pitched, aggressive voice, "My name is Mr. Franconi. What can I do for you?"

  Beth stood up slowly, aware that dealing with this man was a major hurdle to be overcome. She stuck out her hand disarmingly, "I’m Ms. Harmon. Thank you for seeing us."

  Mr. Franconi was taken aback by her pleasant demeanor. He had apparently been told that some wild hooligans were in the office, creating a disturbance.

  He reluctantly took her hand, "What seems to be the problem, Ms. Harmon?"

  "Our families are staying at the E.A.U. on 151st street, in the Bronx, for various reasons. None of us have drug or mental illness problems. Mr. Rodriguez lost his job after the death of his wife. Ms. Rawlins left her apartment because of a domestic abuse situation. Miss Lily’s daughter died and she had to care for her grandchildren. My family lost our apartment in a fire. The social worker at the E.A.U. wants to send us to a drug den motel in the Bronx and we refuse to go there."

  Mr. Franconi parroted the party line, "The social worker at the E.A.U. does a needs assessment that leads to a certification process to ascertain the services that are best for you."

  Hector had been listening intently, "We’ve all been through that. They sent me and my two boys to a motel in Queens that was full of drug addicts and prostitutes. I wouldn’t let my boys stay there."

  Mr. Franconi was getting tense, "First of all…. What is your name again?"

  "Rodriguez. Hector Rodriguez."

  "First of all, Mr. Rodriguez, we provide temporary shelter that we hope leads to permanent housing. I’m sorry that you don’t like our facilities, but we’re not here to provide luxury accommodations."

  "We’re not asking for luxury," Hector said coolly. "We just don’t want to be warehoused in a motel from hell."

  "What do you want?"

  Beth rejoined the conversation, "We want to be sent to the King Charles hotel on east 28th street, in Manhattan."

  Mr. Franconi was less sure of himself, "Did you discuss this with the social worker at the E.A.U.?"

  "Yes," Kiesha said, "but she wouldn’t help us."

  "Do you know why?"

  "Because we wouldn’t go to that drug dealer infested motel."

  "Well, I’ll talk to the commissioner about your case and we’ll get back to you at the E.A.U."

  Beth was resolute, "We’re not leaving here until we get a commitment to send us to the King Charles."

  Mr. Franconi stared at her for a moment, looked at the others, then walked into the inner office. The children had been relatively sedate, but now restlessness was setting in and they began to run around the room in an energetic chase game. The secretary was getting alarmed and went into the inner office.

  Beth took the opportunity to remind the others of their task, "Now that we made our request for housing at the King Charles, it’s up to us to peacefully keep up the pressure."

  Mr. Franconi came out, followed by the secretary. "I talked to the commissioner about your case and he authorized me to investigate your claims. If you’ll come with me to my office, we can discuss this further."

  Beth shook her head, "With all due respect, we’re staying in this office until you agree to send us to the King Charles."

  Mr. Franconi was getting angry, "If you don’t come with me I’ll be forced to call security."

  "Are you going to have us arrested for refusing to live with drug dealers?" Hector asked politely.

  Mr. Franconi didn’t answer and went back into the inner office. The secretary pretended to be deeply involved with something on her desk, but kept watching them out of the corner of her eye.

  Peter whispered to the others, "I saw a couple of sit-ins at college. If they bring security, we should sit on the floor in a circle, with the children inside and we should hold hands."

  "What if they drag us out?" Kiesha asked.

  "We yell loudly, ‘You’re hurting the children.’ Beth should tell them we’re peacefully requesting decent shelter and we’ll take our case first to the media, then to court."

  Hector was agitated, "What if they hurt the children?"

  Peter was thoughtful, "I don’t think they’ll hurt them, but if they do, the kids should cry as loudly as possible. That’ll probably make them stop."

  "You’re starting to sound like a real revolutionary," Beth said admiringly. "I wouldn’t mind sharing a cell with you." The others laughed and some of their tension eased.

  The outer door opened, and two black security guards entered. They went to the secretary who whispered some instructions. They turned to the group and the older guard said, "I’m going to have to ask you folks to leave now."

  "No, thank you," Beth said.

  The guard was taken aback. "What?"

  "You heard me. No, thank you."

  "You don’t seem to understand, miss. You have to leave this office."

  "No, thank you."

  The guard was bewildered, "Don’t keep saying no thank you. I’m telling you to leave this office."

  Beth smiled disarmingly, "No, thank you."

  "Don’t make us have to carry you out."

  "We’re here on legitimate business in a peaceful manner. You have no right to interfere with us."

  "Lady, I was ordered to evict you. You’re trespassing. Now please leave before this gets unpleasant."

  "We’re not going until we see the commissioner."

  "I’ll send for some more men and you won’t like what comes next."

  Beth was defiant, "If you touch us, we’ll have you arrested for assault and we’ll sue your bosses."

  The guard didn’t know what to do and went back to the secretary for further instructions. After whispering into the phone, she told them to wait by the door and watch the intruders.

  Kiesha was feeling good about how things were going so far, "We’re not doing too bad, are we?" Everybody nodded agreement.

  "What do we do if the children have to go to the bathroom?" Hector asked.

  Peter volunteered, "I’ll take the boys and Kiesha can take the girls."

  This met with general
approval, and Beth suggested, "Why don’t you take them now, before that Franconi organizes something to separate us. Kiesha, if they try to stop you, scream ‘Help, help.’ I’m sure the girls will make noise and that should embarrass anyone who bothers you."

  Kiesha stood up, called the girls, then led them to the door. She mischievously asked the guard in a sugary southern accent, "Where is the ladies room, please?"

  The guard was so confused that he muttered, "Down the hall, to your right," and watched the female flotilla sail out of the door. The group decided that since it wasn’t quite three o’clock, they didn’t have to worry about food for hours. Kiesha returned with the girls and Peter took the boys, who came back a few minutes later without an incident.

  About half an hour went by before Mr. Franconi came out of the inner office. "I’ve spoken to the commissioner about your case and he’s very sympathetic to your situation."

  "What does that mean?" Beth asked.

  Mr. Franconi’s answer was evasive, "He instructed me to tell you that if you go back to the E.A.U., he’ll look into your case."

  "That doesn’t solve our problems," Hector blurted. "If he doesn’t do anything, we’re even worse off than before." "Some of us have been sleeping on the floor of the E.A.U. for weeks, because we won’t go to those drug dens,"

  Kiesha added. "Our children have been sleeping on the garbage covered floor. Do you think that’s right?"

  Mr. Franconi shifted uncomfortably, "We don’t want your children sleeping on the floor, but we can’t give clients everything they want, or they’ll be asking for luxury housing. Would that be fair?"

  Beth stood up, "We’re not asking to live in Trump Towers. We just want a safe place for our kids. We don’t have the money to go back and forth, so we’re staying here until you agree to send us to the King Charles."

  "I’ll talk to the commissioner again," Mr. Franconi muttered.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The group watched him go into the inner office and settled down to wait. The guards were bored withstanding around, but without instructions to leave they just hulked and tried to look menacing. Pablo and Raheen tried to talk to the guards, but only got surly replies.

  They walked back to the group and Pablo explained loudly to Raheen, "They don’t have guns cause they’re not cops."

  "Then why are they wearing those uniforms?"

  "I guess they’re messengers, or something." Even the secretary laughed.

  The guards were embarrassed and the older one said in annoyance, "I’ll be right outside the door, waiting in the hall. Call me if you need me." He stalked out stiffly and slammed the door.

  Mr. Franconi popped out of the inner office in alarm, "What was that noise? What’s wrong? Is everything all right?"

  "It was just one of the guards going out to the hall," the secretary said.

  "Well, tell him not to slam the door next time."

  "Yes, sir."

  He turned to Beth, "We’re still discussing your case. We haven’t forgotten about you."

  Beth smiled sweetly, "Don’t worry. We’re not going anywhere."

  Miss Lily called the children to her because they were getting restless. "Now all of you kids sit down near me and I’ll tell you a story."

  The children tumbled over each other like puppies and pressed as close to her as they could get.

  "What kind of story, Miss Lily?" Jennifer asked.

  Before she could answer, Raheen interrupted, "How long are we going to be here? I want to go to the park."

  "I don’t know, chile," she answered kindly. "We may be here for a while."

  "Why are we waiting here?" Pablo asked. "We want the man we’re talking with, to send us to a place that’s safe for children,"

  Miss Lily answered. "We’ll wait here until they agree to let us go there."

  "Why won’t they send us there?"

  Miss Lily thought for a moment, "Sometimes people gotta be reminded to do the right thing. That’s what we’re doin’. Now who’s ready for the story?"

  The chorus of, "Me. Me. Me." brought Mr. Franconi out again, but when he saw that everything was under control, he went back inside.

  "There was this sly red fox who was always hungry and one day he saw a big old crow sittin’ in a tree, eatin’ grapes. Now this fox thought he was pretty clever, so he made a plan to catch and eat the crow.

  He said politely, ‘Gee, Mr. Crow, I didn’t know you ate grapes.’

  The crow replied, ‘I do, if I can’t find anythin’ else.’

  The sly fox said, ‘I know a cornfield not too far away. If you share your grapes, I’ll tell you where it is.’

  ‘That’s mighty nice of you, Mr. Fox. I’ll drop some down to you.’

  ‘Oh, don’t drop them. They’ll break. Why don’t you bring them down and we’ll eat them together?’

  Now that crow knew that the fox really wanted to eat him, so he teased him, ‘Sorry, Mr. Fox. I won’t come down there. Why don’t you climb up here and I’ll share them?’

  The fox realized that the crow was much too smart to be caught, but he tried once more, ‘You know foxes can’t climb trees. Come down and we’ll eat together.’

  The crow laughed, ‘If I do that I know who’ll get eaten. No thank you.’ The fox was angry because he was so hungry, but he couldn’t catch the crow.

  He said bitterly as he trotted off, ‘I don’t want your old grapes. They’re probably sour.’"

  Everyone had been listening with rapt attention, including the secretary and guard. Beth recollected reading the fable of the fox and the crow by La Fontaine in college French, but the story sounded more like good advice rather than literature when Miss Lily told it.

  The secretary had been so absorbed that she hadn’t paid attention to the ringing of her phone. She came back to awareness with a start and picked up the receiver. "Yes, sir. They’re still here…. This nice lady was telling the kids a story…. Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I’ll listen for the phone."

  Pablo asked Miss Lily wonderingly, "Why did the fox say the grapes were sour?"

  "Because he couldn’t get them, chile. Sometimes when folks can’t get what they want they blame the wrong thing, instead of themselves."

  Pablo thought for a moment, "Does that mean the fox wasn’t as smart as he thought he was?"

  Ms. Lily clapped her hands approvingly, "That’s right, chile, or maybe the crow was smarter. But I think you understand the story."

  "I think so, Miss Lily."

  The secretary said politely, "That was a nice story, ma’am. Do you know any more?"

  Miss Lily winked at Beth, "Another time, chile."

  Some time went by and Beth noticed that Miss Lily was having problems sitting on the floor. She asked the secretary if they could take one of the chairs for Miss Lily to sit on.

  "Of course, you can. If you like, I could get some sodas for the children."

  "That’s very nice of you."

  The secretary looked around furtively, "I admire what you’re doing. I hope the commissioner grants your request."

  "Thank you… What’s your name?"

  "April."

  "I’m Beth. Thanks."

  "I wish I could do more for you…"

  "I understand."

  Hector and Kiesha were whispering together when Beth turned back to them, and Hector asked, "What’ll we do when the kids get hungry?"

  "We’ll tell them to chant, ‘We’re hungry, we’re hungry’, over and over, until they agree to send us to the King Charles."

  "Do you think it’ll work?" Kiesha asked.

  "I don’t know, but we’ll stay here until it does. This office is a lot cleaner than the E.A.U. At least we won’t have to sleep on garbage."

  "Right on, missy."

  Peter was more aware of what was going on than he had been, and he told them that he had an idea. "When they approve sending us to the King Charles, we should insist that they give us rooms on the same floor, next to each other. That way we can still look ou
t for each other."

  Everyone nodded agreement and Miss Lily said, "That’s a good idea, chile. We can make part of the hall a play area for the kids and I can watch them." Her comment was greatly appreciated and sparked a series of ideas.

  "We have to get the kids back into school right away," Hector remarked.

  "Definitely," Kiesha added. "And we have to get the younger ones into day care."

  "We have to eat better," Beth said. "Maybe we can have a collective kitchen and we’ll all contribute."

  Miss Lily beamed, "I’m a good cook and that’s something I can do to pay my share. I don’t want nobody’s charity just because I’m an old woman."

  Beth hugged her. "You’re a vital part of the group now. We’re standing together, not giving charity. Besides, you’re not an old woman."

  "I ain’t no spring chicken," Miss Lily cackled.

  They discussed other suggestions that included setting up a work and school schedule for the adults, locating a laundromat and supermarket, finding a park where the children could play and going to a thrift shop for some serviceable clothes. Peter offered to donate part of his salary to a group fund, until Hector was working and could contribute his share. Hector was uncomfortable about the money at first, then pledged to get a job right away. Kiesha said she could contribute from her welfare allotment while going to school and thanked the others for their support. Miss Lily said she would contribute money and hoped everyone wouldn’t think she was taking advantage of them.

  "We’re in this together," Kiesha told her emphatically.

  Beth mentioned her plan, "Once our situation at the King Charles is stabilized, I’ll look for a job. Peter and I should be able to get our apartment back after a while, but even if we do, we’ll help all of you until you’re back on your feet."

  "You have a good heart, chile. What kind of work do you do?"

  Beth chuckled, "I used to be a piano teacher. Now I’ll probably be a waitress."